


En Garde.

by pandashurley



Series: Duel [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mind Games, Seduction, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 06:04:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandashurley/pseuds/pandashurley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim really likes to play games, sometimes Sherlock will play and sometimes he won't. This is one time where he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	En Garde.

**Author's Note:**

> Updated: 1/29/13  
> God I reread it and it was horrible. So I went back and added some new things, and made things a little better. I was obviously not paying attention when I wrote this. :) Enjoy!

Intelligence can be a blessing or a curse, depending on how one's life is molded. On the one hand, it can flourish and become something important; a tool for doing good for the world. On the other hand, it can be manipulated and refashioned into something conniving, something cunning and something evil. Honestly, it's two sides of the same extraordinary coin. Intelligence, however, is hardly something to covet. Especially when you wish to covet an intelligent person. Being intelligent is inherently lonely. So mind-numbingly, heart-stoppingly boring. Some, like Sherlock Holmes, will detach and use their 'powers' for good. They will blind themselves to the stunning nature of their own impeccable talents and sell themselves like common goods.

  
Jim Moriarty, on the other hand, could recognize his own brilliance. He could recognize it in others as well. He had taken a liking to one, Sherlock Holmes, in an attempt to mastermind the worlds greatest game. While it had started out as purely intellectual, something had happened. The higher functioning parts of his vast mind suddenly seemed to get pushed aside for baser instincts. Lust. Desire. Feelings. There was no point in destroying someone who has wormed their way into your mind and nested there. Someone with legs like that and eyes that could pierce the very veil of the Heavens themselves. Jim shivered. This was very not good.

  
Moran had tried again and again over the last few days to tear Jim away from his computer. He had hacked into the CCTV footage around 221B Baker Street and had conveniently found his way to Mycroft's hidden surveillance inside. Living room, kitchen, even the bathroom though that one was at a rather odd angle to provide some measure of privacy. The only thing missing was Sherlock's bedroom, which Jim found he wanted more and more as he privately watched the consulting detective lounge about in the rest of his flat. What was most infuriating was when he didn't have a case, the git never left the god damn house. For the last three days, Jim had been waiting for an opening. He had even considered kidnapping that ridiculous, simple little house pet Sherlock seemed to keep around. That hadn't gone over well the last time, and considering the name of the game now was seduction, Jim probably wouldn't be in Sherlock's graces if he did it again.

  
It was then that a simple movement caught the consulting criminal's eye. Sherlock had slipped his hand into the pocket of his robe and pulled out a small scrap of paper. Even from the grainy and unfocused footage, Jim recognized it. The number he had slipped Sherlock back at the lab, when he had first gotten his real look. It was superfluous, really. He had already gotten Sherlock's number from some of the more persuadable of the Homeless Network. It was all part of the game, trying to encourage Sherlock to show some interest. So far, it had been months and all Jim had done was (in Sebastian's words) 'pine hopelessly for a man who was never going to return the favor.' Jim picked up his phone, and fiddled with it, bringing up Sherlock's number. This had gone on long enough, he was going to get what he wanted.

  
**Still fiddling with that little piece of paper, are you? JM**

  
Jim watched as Sherlock's face turned into a smirk. So there was some sort of interest.

  
**Still hacking CCTV, are you? SH**

  
**Your brother isn't nearly as clever as he would wish people to believe. JM**

  
Jim watched Sherlock chuckle. A small bolt of pride struck through him as he realized that he had actually made the rather stoic Sherlock Holmes laugh. Though, admittedly, his brother was fodder for plenty of jokes. Jim wasn't excited at the fact of how he had made Sherlock chuckle, just the fact that he had at all was good enough.

  
**That is an understatement if I ever heard one. SH**

  
**You've been playing with my number for a long time, sweetie. Anything you'd like to confess? JM**

  
**Not out loud, no. SH**

  
**Well, I don't believe you consider this talking. JM**

  
**Touche. SH**

  
**I've been waiting to hear from you. Moran said something idiotic about pining over you. JM**

  
**Waiting you out seemed more efficient. SH**

  
**I got tired of being coy and waiting for you. JM**

  
**I don't like waiting for what I want. JM**

  
**It's boring. JM**

  
**You are so far from boring. JM**

  
**I suppose I can take that as a complement. SH**

  
**As you should. Haven't seen John most of the day. Where is your better half? JM**

  
Jim watched Sherlock scowl and sit up on the couch. This was obviously a sensitive subject. Their relationship was complicated, that much was obvious. The only reason he had tried to kidnap and eventually kill the monotonous blogger was to free up the brilliant man with the lame albatross hanging from his gorgeous and exceptionally lickable neck. He had plans, and Sherlock was at the epicenter of most of them.

  
While Sebastian was helpful and very loyal, Jim knew he didn't want a puppy. He wanted an accomplice. Someone he could scheme with, plot with, someone who would understand the way he saw the world. Sherlock Holmes had been a refreshing breath of air, both mentally and physically. Jim couldn't remember the last time he had fallen so hard for another person. Even with the attempted murder.

  
**Somewhere in the country with whomever he's with now. SH**

  
**Lonely? JM**

  
**I can help ;) JM**

  
**Save for a dead body or a demolished building, how could you help? SH**

  
**Oooh, take out all the fun options. :( JM**

  
**I could always call Moran. I'm sure he could run out to the country and be back by morning. JM**

  
**You know I won't let you kill John. SH**

  
**Too bad. He keeps getting in the way. JM**

  
**One word and it could be just the two of us, Sherlock. Think of what we could accomplish together. JM**

  
**It will never come down to the choice of you or John. I will always choose John. SH**

  
**Always? JM**

  
**What if he offered himself to you? JM**

  
**Would you take him? Sleep with him? Fuck him? JM**

  
The tension crossing Sherlock's face was positively delicious. There was something about a  seemingly asexual being that was aroused by someone as common as John that made Jim jealous. More than anything, Jim wanted to be the one Sherlock wanted. The one he wanted to possess, the one he wanted to be with. Sherlock's response was quick and typed with visible annoyance and anger.

  
**I don't think of him that way. SH**

  
**Have you ever? JM**

  
**Why do you want to know? SH**

  
**Is it really so important to you? SH**

  
**Curiosity, love. I still like trying to figure out what makes you do what you do. JM**

  
**You have a strange obsession with my partner and flatmate. It is a little... peculiar. SH**

  
**Then you are more oblivious that I had originally suspected. JM**

  
**Oh? SH**

  
**You are attached to that strange little doctor. Confused little doctor. I want to rid you of this... tumor. You deserve someone healthy and strong. Not weak and needy. JM**

  
**And you think you're a better candidate? John has never strapped bombs to people or sicced trained hit men on anyone. SH**

  
**I am the obvious choice, Sherlock. You know it. And you want me. JM**

  
Throwing coy out the window, Jim was finally being honest. If there was a single iota of sexuality inside of Sherlock, he wanted to pry it out with claws. He wanted to see Sherlock naked, sweating and falling apart. Jim wanted to own him. Please him. Support him the only way another bright mind could. John was suffocating him. Jim would push him to flourish.

  
**Stop. You're trying to make me mad on purpose. It's a weak ploy. SH**

  
**A picture is worth a thousand words, Sherly. And I'm watching your reactions live. ;) JM**

  
**Your point? SH**

  
**I'll make you an offer, Sherlock. JM**

  
**You're going to blackmail me into sleeping with you. Bored. SH**

  
**Am I? How? JM**

  
**You will say something like 'Sleep with me and John will never be a target again.' SH**

  
**Would you do it? JM**

  
**Would you fuck me to save his life, Sherlock? JM**

  
The detective's hands were frozen. Jim chuckled as he watched the reactions. The surprise, the contemplation, the fear of change. Sherlock was predictable, especially when it came to his blogger/doctor/army man. All Jim wanted was to see him falter. To see that impossible perfect veneer crack. To see the man fall. It was easy enough. Implant a seed of doubt and watch the plant flourish into self hatred.

  
**Your silence is so telling, pet. JM**

  
**You already have the upper hand. You can probably see my obvious arousal. All you are trying to do now is get me to admit it. SH**

  
**Am I boring you? Because I can think of a million things that wouldn't be boring to a good little boy like you... JM**

  
**You need to do better research. SH**

  
**I suppose Mycroft did something right. SH**

  
Was it possible? Could the rumors actually be false? Was Sherlock Holmes a virgin? Jim paused for a moment wondering which was his better option. If Sherlock was a virgin, taking him apart in all the ways he could imagine would have been much more fulfilling. Even if he wasn't, which would be a pity, Jim would still have the challenge of ruining him for future partners. Either way, Jim wanted to win the ultimate prize.

  
**Now I'm even more curious about you, baby. If I were in England, I would just be forced to break in tonight... JM**

  
**John comes back in two days. I'm alone until then. SH**

  
**Naughty boy. ;) JM**

  
**Sleep well. JM**

  
**You're going to need it. JM**

  
Jim set down his phone. What he said was true. He was hiding somewhere deep in the countryside of France. He was busy planning things, and couldn't be distracted by Sherlock. Even though everything he was planning centered around the man. Though, with the hacking and the spying, his plans had been left forgotten. One view of Sherlock hadn't been enough. He had to attack this from all sides. He needed to watch the plan unfold. He needed some inspiration. He needed to get back to England. Sherlock wasn't going to slip through his fingers again.  
\-------------------------------------------------  
Sebastian had been jealous and angry and didn't understand the need to go back for the detective. Jim hadn't even bothered trying to explain. Sebastian wouldn't understand and even if he did, jealousy was not a good color on him. Through endless rants and empty threats, he had still procured Jim a flight. If you could call it that. It was an emergency transport and Jim was stuck in some cargo bay that smelled like a locker room and a morgue. That was the beauty of having a lackey and not a 'partner' or a colleague or whatever John Watson was. There was never any real say. Though John probably would have fought for nicer accommodations. Anything to make his love happy. Sebastian always gave the bare minimum. Jim shivered in the cold outside the airport. Now, having landed in London at some ungodly hour of the morning, Jim pulled out his phone.

  
**I would say good morning to you darling, but I am sure you haven't slept. JM**

  
**I haven't but that would hardly be a surprise to anyone. SH**

  
**I am hoping that the good Doctor hasn't returned early. JM**

  
**Welcome back to London. Should I tell Lestrade you'll be popping in? SH**

  
**He's not really my type, though from the look of him he could take some impressive punishment. I see no need, I am only here for you after all. JM**

  
**I should probably feel flattered. SH**

  
Jim would have given anything at that moment for a computer screen. It had been a long and frustrating 8 hours of travel. 8 hours since he had finally left his computer and drove toward the airport. The last thing he had seen Sherlock doing was laying on the couch, still as the grave. Jim had been paying more attention to how he breathed, how minute his movements were, the little patches of hidden skin he could see. All he could think about on the horrendous plane ride over was how much more he wanted to see. Obsession wasn't the right word, but he could think of nothing better.

  
**What are you wearing? JM**

  
**You would think I would at least get a dinner invitation before careening straight into seduction. SH**

  
**What are you hungry for? JM**

  
**Besides me. JM**

  
**As interesting as cannibalism seems, I doubt you have any of the physical characteristics that would indicate you would be anything but a poor meal. SH**

  
**Woke up on the wrong side of the bed, dear? Or are you just tired of waking up alone...? JM**

  
**I don't think either of those questions require an answer. SH**

  
**Let me buy you dinner. I'll bring it with me. JM**

  
**Are you intending to break in? I have no intention of inviting you. SH**

  
**The quickest way to your heart is to break into your flat, love. JM**

  
**Especially when you're sleeping. JM**

  
**Death threats should not spike this level in sexual response. SH**

  
**Oooh! Someone getting a little hot? How does skipping straight to dessert sound? I would love to lick chocolate off you in all those creative hidden places... JM**

  
This was quickly becoming an exciting game of cat and mouse. Though who was who was up for debate. Jim sighed and smiled. He wasn't scheduled to be on another plane for two days. He was going to break into that ramshackle little flat and have the Great Sherlock Holmes on every surface and space that he could. He wanted to make it back home in time to see John and his little lady come back. The look of horror would be priceless. He wanted to tear that little flat apart and leave pretty little John to pick up all the pieces. Maybe he could leave a barely clothed detective out on the couch, covered ever so strategically... His train of thought was interrupted sharply by the text message tone.

  
**Very straight forward of you. SH**

  
**Straight forward would be describing in detail how I want to bend you over, take you soft and slow at first then just fucking every fiery sense out of you. I would make you come so hard, Sherly Baby, and I don't plan on leaving for days. JM**

  
**If I were to ever say yes to you, these inane pet names would not be uttered in my bedroom. SH**

  
**It's bad manners not to buy you dinner before pulling you into my lap and making you mine. It would make me feel like I had to leave you money. JM**

  
**In that context, I'm a whore either way. Food or money, it doesn't matter. SH**

  
**And yet, you are so much more than common words can describe. JM**

  
**Someone is waxing rather poetically this evening. Here I thought you were only going to be crass. SH**

  
**Is that what you want? I could whisper the filthiest things into your ears... get you nice and hard before I even touch that pretty skin. JM**

  
**I bet you feel like velvet. I'm sure your kisses are sinful. JM**

  
**I've thought about those lips a lot, Sherlock. I'm sure you can use them better than any whore I've ever had. JM**

  
**While I am sure that statement will not be proven false, I still have no desire for you to be in my flat. SH**

  
**With or without dinner. SH**

  
Now this little mouse was testing his patience. He was halfway to his destination already, forgoing a cab once he got outside the airport. London at 4am was simple and quiet, Jim had missed it more than he realized. The streets were quiet, people all over the city still tucked in nice and tight. Dreaming of better things and reliving better days. It slowly began to sink in, however, that nothing was open. Presenting the larger challenge of his ultimate goal. While breaking in would be simple, albeit annoying, it's not what Jim wanted. It wasn't romance, but it was important. Jim wanted Sherlock to invite him in. Being invited in, being begged to come in, would be decidedly more pleasurable than taking what he wanted. What he wanted most right now was Sherlock to offer himself.

  
**What do I have to do to get you to let me in? JM**

  
**What is so important about permission? I know you would just come in if you wanted. SH**

  
**Sometimes it's not about taking. JM**

  
The silence that followed was absolute. This was sensitive. This was honest. This was not the great and conniving Jim Moriarty. While a man of Sherlock's caliber would probably find this to be a ruse, and it might have been at the beginning, Jim was being sincere. It was surprising, even to himself. He knew he didn't want to take advantage. Frustration at the silence was the main reason his fingers typed out the next message.

  
**Fine then. Can I tempt you into a game perhaps? JM**

  
**Does this game involve torture, death or explosions in any way? SH**

  
**Yes and No. It's a complicated answer. JM**

  
**You won't even have to get dressed. JM**

  
**Fine. I'll play your game. SH**

  
**Oh goody! Truth or Dare, baby? JM**

  
**You cannot possibly be serious. SH**

  
**Truth or Dare, Sherly. JM**

  
**If you're going to keep insisting, truth then. SH**

  
**Are you really a virgin? JM**

  
**Why are people so curious about my sexual orientation and history? No, I am not a virgin. I haven't been for some time. SH**

  
**Truth or Dare? SH**

  
**You are such an enigma, my pet. Truth. JM**

  
**James or Jim? SH**

  
**James for respect and Jim for being naughty ;) JM**

  
**Truth. SH**

  
**You're going to have to pick dare eventually... What makes John better than me? JM**

  
**I don't see why I would have to pick dare at all, and John is better than you because he has moral fortitude. SH**

  
**Being nice and good and sweet is boring, but out of everyone you should know that. You like me because I'm dangerous. I'm another drug for you, another addiction. You like it, now dare me to do something. JM**

  
**If you aren't here, how do I know you will do what I say? SH**

  
**Mmm, I suppose there is that. You may have to rely on trust and the camera I have attached to this phone. JM**

  
**I dare you to come closer. SH**

  
**How close? JM**

  
**Because I would rather be pressed right up against you. ;) JM**

  
**Within 10 blocks of Baker Street. SH**

  
**How do you know I'm not already standing outside your door? JM**

  
Jim smirked. He had gotten himself to that big black door. The streetlights made the numbers 221 glitter in the darkness. He wasn't standing in front of the door, but standing just under the CCTV camera not to be seen. In fact, he had this particular spot plotted out after looking at all the surrounding cameras on the street. Mycroft didn't take his little brother's security lightly and Mycroft especially didn't need to know that he was back in town.

  
**Knowing you, you would have let yourself in and made yourself comfortable already. SH**

  
**Like I said already, sometimes it isn't about taking. Sometimes the offer is more important than the reward. Now choose. JM**

  
**Truth. SH**

  
**Oh come now, be more interesting. JM**

  
**I made my decision, ask me the question. SH**

  
**Why won't you let me have you? JM**

  
**Maybe I don't want you. Maybe I do. Perhaps I'm leading you into a trap. Maybe I just like watching you squirm. SH**

  
**Sadism! Now you're speaking my language! JM**

  
**Though I would much rather be the one making you squirm. JM**

  
**You look rather comfortable where you are. SH**

  
**If not a bit cold. SH**

  
**One minute you're being amazingly attractive, appealing to the sadomasochist in me, the next you are concerned about my well being. Completely frustrating, Mr. Holmes. JM**

  
**I refer you to my previous statement; maybe I like watching you squirm. SH**

  
Jim was at a loss of what to do next. Ask another question? Tempt him more? Wait out here until he fell asleep and then break in? Like Sherlock would ever sleep. Though, the remaining possibilities were endless, but he was frozen to even do one of them. Not frozen from the cold, though. Oh no. Jim was frozen by the sudden realization that Sherlock was in the exact same place as he was. A chess game stuck in a stalemate. Jim was furiously looking at the board for one more move before his phone pinged again.

  
**I suppose the only proper thing to do now is invite you in for tea. SH**

  
There was a pause from both men. Jim looked curiously up at the windows over looking the street below. A long dark figure moved across the windows, stopping in one. Jim saw the illumination of a phone screen and his phone pinged again. He knew the detective could see his phone light up in his hand from the window. The dark figure in the window disappeared.

  
**Well, come on then. I unlocked the door hours ago. Replacing the locks in an expense and an inconvenience I did not want to explain to John. SH**

  
Jim smiled and slid into 221B, silently padding up the stairs. The door to Sherlock's flat was open and Jim hesitated. Crossing that threshold would change everything. This wasn't just some quick fling or something equally temporary. There were, god forbid, actual feelings involved here. Obviously from both parties. Most people were under the assumption that Sherlock Holmes didn't have feelings. If he didn't, John would be dead and Jim would have kidnapped Sherlock on a destructive trip for two (criminal) masterminds around the globe. Jim slowly leaned around the corner and peeked in.

  
The couch and the two chairs by the fire place were empty. The violin was comfortably nestled in a case by the window. The fireplace had a small dying fire, lending a much needed break in the cold of the room. The room looked disheveled as it always had, maybe a touch worse without John here to do the cleaning. He padded quietly over to the chair that was assuredly Sherlock's and gently sank himself into it. The consulting detective was standing in the kitchen, pulling well used tea cups out of the cabinet. Nothing posh, it looked like they were the cups the two flat mates used themselves.

  
"Pleasant flight?" Sherlock asked from the kitchen, low voice stunning Jim out of his stare.

  
"I suppose. Several hours crammed in the back of a military cargo plane." Jim responded quietly.

  
"Hmm, and here I thought you would never ride in anything but first class." Sherlock said as he poured their tea.

  
"Sometimes convenience is sacrificed for luxury." Jim said bitterly. Moran was an idiot. Good thing he was handsome or that tosser wouldn't get by anywhere. Well, a little less attractive since Jim had cut his face open but stupid and loyal none the less. Sherlock brought him his cup of tea, setting it on the small side table beside him before settling himself into John's recliner without protest.

  
"So what made you invite me in?" Jim asked, gingerly lifting the cup and taking a small sip. It wasn't amazing, but it wasn't a tepid cup of hot water either. It was nice to have something to get the chill out of his bones. Though he'd rather be warming up between those astonishing legs that were crossed at the knee in front of him.

  
"Curiosity. And you looked quite pathetic standing out there all alone. Though I applaud your clever avoidance of the security cameras." Sherlock smirked before he sipped his own tea. He was dressed in lay about clothes instead of his usual suit, the gentle hues of blue spread through his outfit were bringing out the unnatural colors of his eyes. The soft glow of the dying fire was casting warm shadows across that face, Jim couldn't help himself from staring. He was so angular and gorgeous, it was hard for Jim to distract himself. Thank the Lords for tea.

  
"And in here? I'm sure you realize if Mycroft knows I'm here, this visit is going to be frustratingly brief." Jim returned the smirk, setting his teacup down and tenting his fingers in front of his lips.

  
"They're off as well. Mycroft knows my need for privacy sometimes. Not always, but sometimes." Sherlock said pushing himself gracefully out of the chair, crossing the small distance and straddling Jim's lap, settling himself comfortably down on his thighs. Sherlock pressed his hands against Jim's chest and shifted himself forward, pressing their lips together softly.

  
"I missed you." Sherlock whispered into the silence.

  
"You aren't one for sentiment." Jim said, snaking his arms around Sherlock's trim waist.

  
"True. Though I am also not one to lie." Sherlock admitted, pressing in for another kiss, deeper this time. "I don't understand why you insist on playing these games." Sherlock said, pulling away from the kiss and sliding his hands around to the back of Jim's neck.

  
"Mental arousal is just as important as it's physical counter parts..." Jim murmured, pressing his now fully hard erection into Sherlock's thigh. Sherlock palmed his erection before pulling Jim closer to kiss him again, this time licking hungrily into his mouth, both moaning at the welcome feel of tongue on tongue. The sat there for a moment, entwining with each other. Easy, long strokes of fingertips and palms, exploring clothed skin. It all felt like silk. Sherlock had been right, it had been too long. The welcome feel of Sherlock's tongue and his lips felt like ecstasy and electricity mixed together. Jim pulled a moan out of Sherlock, his eager fingers finally finding skin between his shirt and his pajamas and punctuating it with a nip of his lower lip. Sherlock pulled away, pulling his bitten lip in between his own teeth. Jim was having a hard time concentrating, blood suddenly rushing from his head. He could feel the hot strokes of Sherlock's fingertips on the back of his neck.

  
"Now if you do that, you know what's going to happen." Jim warned, pressing his fingers hard into Sherlock's waist. He loved leaving bruises on that pale skin.

  
"And if that's exactly what I want?" Sherlock asked, playing coy. It wasn't normally a good emotion on him, but with most of his animal brain starting to take over, it wasn't going to matter much. Naked, he wanted them both naked as soon as possible.  
"For once, I might be inclined to give it to you..." Jim trailed off as he slid one of his hands down the back of Sherlock's pajamas. He wasn't wearing any pants and Jim would have melted at the knees if he were standing. Sherlock responded by scooting as close as possible, and Jim's jaw dropped as their erections brushed up against one another, still encased in fabric. This was the tipping point. Jim looped his arms under Sherlock's knees and stood, supporting both their weights easily. Sherlock had his arms wrapped around Jim's shoulders, pressing urgent kisses where ever he could find skin. The bedroom was open and Jim felt his knees hit the soft mattress and promptly threw Sherlock down onto the bed.

  
In moments, he was spreading himself over his favorite detective, pulling and pushing at clothing before letting out a small grunt of frustration and pulling Sherlock up to sitting. Jim pushed his dressing robe off his shoulders before roughly pulling at the hem of Sherlock's shirt. Sherlock had barely struggled to get out of his robe before throwing his arms over his head and letting Jim rip the clothing from him. Sherlock's hands found themselves tugging urgently at the buttons of the coat and shirt of the man standing before him. The jacket was tossed quickly, and Sherlock's fingers started to fiddle with the neat row of buttons down the front. Sherlock had gotten a few buttons down before he reached to pull Jim's shirt out of his trousers. Jim snaked a hand between them and ran his fingertips over Sherlock's still annoyingly covered cock. Sherlock moaned and ripped Jim's shirt open, buttons flying all over the bedroom.

  
Before Jim could react, both of Sherlock's hands bolted toward his skin, landing flat on his chest. They slid under his shirt but over his shoulders, pulling them back together on top of the bed. Sherlock's hands moved slowly as they skimmed back over Jim's shoulders, down his chest, around his waist and Sherlock moaned as he grabbed Jim's ass tightly, causing their cocks to brush against each other. Jim moaned at the contact and the feel of Sherlock's strong hands caressing from his ass, around his hips and a chuckle escaped him as those nimble fingers went straight for his belt.

  
"You wear far too much clothing..." Sherlock murmured as he started to press kisses into Jim's pale neck.

  
"You're very good at getting me out of them though... I wouldn't miss that for the world..." Jim all but whispered back, lost in the sound of his zipper and a sudden warm hand cupping up against his hard cock. "You do owe me a new shirt..."

  
"Fine. No pants next time." Sherlock's dark voice was punctuated by a quick nip at Jim's jugular. Jim shivered.

  
"If you insist..." Jim replied, gasping when those long, pretty fingers finally found their way to being wrapped around his cock. Sherlock captured his lips in a bruising kiss, fingers leaving his cock only to shove his pants and trousers down. Jim moaned and followed, hooking his fingers into the waistband of Sherlock's pajamas, amazed at how the man lifted his hips without being told and never breaking their kiss. Jim pressed them both hard back onto the bed. Sherlock only broke the kiss to moan as their cocks finally grazed one another. Jim bent down, nipping down Sherlock's long, pale neck, thrusting against him, earning little moans all the way down to his collar bone. Sherlock's body suddenly stretched, Jim loved it when he did that. Long, lean, pale, it was like watching a cat. Jim chuckled and nuzzled into Sherlock's neck when he realized he was just reaching under the pillow.

  
"Busy last night, love?" Jim asked before sucking a pretty red mark into Sherlock's shoulder. Sherlock chuckled.

  
"I knew you were coming..." Sherlock said, dropping the lube close by. "It was..." He paused, his breath catching as Jim sucked another mark into his neck. "Provocative..." Jim reached for the lube, uncapping it and pushed himself to standing.

  
"You look gorgeous this way, you know..." Jim said, watching Sherlock squirm out of his pajamas. "Naked, flushed, hard..." He murmured, squirting some lube into his palm and stroking it onto himself. "Now tell me what you did last night, baby..." Jim said darkly, tossing the lube on the bed. Sherlock reached for the lube, slicking up his cock. Slowly and teasingly, Sherlock started stroking himself. Jim was nearly breathless as he watched those grey eyes fall closed and a small moan escape those flushed pink lips.

  
"I kept thinking about the last time." Sherlock murmured, voice rich and husky. "When we were in the shower..." He moaned, hips arching into his own touch. "How you held me against the wall... My legs, wrapped around your waist..." He moaned again. Jim chuckled. Thank god for bath mats... Sherlock's eyes opened and met Jim's, pupils blown wide open. Sherlock pulled his hand off his cock, and reached lower to slide one pretty finger inside himself. Jim moaned as he realized how easily it had slid in...

  
"Fuck... Sherlock..." Jim moaned. Now more than ever, Jim wanted to know what he missed on the feeds while he was on the plane. Maybe Sebby got to watch, but admittedly... Seeing Sherlock in this position in front of him was infinitely better. His strokes had turned lazy as he watched Sherlock fuck himself on his own fingers. Two became three quickly and Jim couldn't take it anymore. He grabbed Sherlock's wrist and pulled out his fingers before lining his cock up and slowly sinking in. He pulled almost all the way back out, watching Sherlock's face change, before sinking back in just as slowly. What he loved most was the passion and the pleasure that melted those hard features from marble. Into something more human, more destructible. Something easily malleable, someone who wouldn't crumble over time.

  
It hadn't always been this slow at first. Making love to Sherlock came later, after all the hate dissipated. Sherlock realized quickly and would never forget how much Jim enjoyed taking his time. Watching his muscles twitch, seeing his face change, feeling Sherlock stretch. It was a delectable type of torture, and both parties enjoyed it immensely. Jim shifted himself, sliding in slowly at a different angle and smiling as Sherlock's body stilled and arched against him.

  
"Tell me how bad you wanted me..." Jim whispered hotly in Sherlock's ear, pressing in again, his cock obviously grazing that perfect little sweet spot hidden inside his lover. Sherlock's next moan was mixed with laughter.

  
"If anyone else had been home..." Sherlock moaned raggedly as Jim's lips closed around one of his nipples, his hips only picking up a small fraction. "I would have been embarrassed..." A small gasp as Sherlock felt teeth close around his nipple. "I was being so loud..." He moaned out, arching into another slow slide across his prostate.

  
"Mmm, like my good little whore, right?" Sherlock could only respond with a nod. Jim started thrusting a little faster, noticing a pretty sheen of sweat blossoming across Sherlock's forehead.

  
"Harder... Jim... P-please..." Sherlock begged softly. Jim chuckled and bit into Sherlock's neck, pumping harder. Sherlock was moaning loudly, breathy curses falling from his lips. Jim loved this part. When Sherlock's prim and proper ways were dissolving before him. Jim could pinpoint the moment that Sherlock's brain would just shut down, he always waited for it. When both of them could have an animalistic need fulfilled followed by a hardware reset, which left them both breathless. The words escaping Sherlock had reached the point of nonsense and Jim slowed and grabbed Sherlock's wrists, pinning both with one hand above that curly black mop of hair. Jim's free hand wrapped around Sherlock's cock, wet with precum, and pumping it in time with his hip thrusts, now gaining more speed.

  
Jim felt the orgasm begin to build at the base of his spine, ready to shoot straight into his brain. It felt hot, electric. He wanted it, wanted to watch his precious Sherlock fall apart with him. Both men were close, moaning and sweating. Sherlock was begging, wanting to cum, urging Jim to move faster, deeper, harder.

  
"Cum for me, Sherlock..." Jim murmured hotly into the air. "Now baby, cum for me..." Jim commanded. Sherlock's body stilled for a moment and then arched into Jim, hot ropes of cum shooting across his pale belly. Jim moaned as Sherlock's body clenched around him and with a final thrust, Jim came hard and deep. Jim huffed out a breathy laugh as he watched Sherlock drag a finger through a few of the cooling stripes of cum painted across his belly. Both men moaned as Sherlock popped the finger into his mouth.

  
"What on earth are you doing?" Jim asked incredulously.

  
"One of John's conquests left a magazine behind. Some article saying that how you tasted depended on what you eat. I was curious." Sherlock said, voice distant while he was recording a mental note.

  
"And how long has this been going on?" Jim asked, stealing a quick kiss from Sherlock's lips. Pulling his bottom lip into his mouth, he could faintly taste the salty tang of cum.

  
"A month or so." Sherlock said, kissing Jim back.

  
"You never cease to surprise me, Sherlock Holmes." Jim whispered as he slowly pulled out of Sherlock and collapsed next to him.

  
"Is that what you think. Hm." Sherlock murmured. Jim sighed because even through closed eyes, he could see the smirk. He felt the bed dip and rustle followed by a warm hand on his shoulder. "You're staying?" He asked quietly. Jim thought for a moment.

  
"Suppose I must. If John comes back single it will be impossible for either of us to get together alone." Jim said with a smile.

  
"No smoking." Sherlock said after a moment. Jim opened his eyes and frowned. "While this game of cat and mouse is enjoyable, I am tired of getting blamed for you smoking in this flat. If you do it again, I'm just going to tell John. It's not particularly enjoyable living with someone who is mad at you..." Sherlock said. Jim huffed out a exhausted laugh.

  
"Fine, pet." Jim said, shifting a little closer to Sherlock. Jim yawned. "Nap, then breakfast." Jim sighed. Sherlock scoffed.

  
"I'm going to shower..." He said, kissing Jim on the forehead. After a moments contemplation, Jim decided he wasn't that tired yet and pressing Sherlock up against that wall sounded a lot better than not. Jim smiled to himself as he pushed off the bed and walked to the bathroom.


End file.
